The Mind's Eye, Book 2: Journeyman
by LadyDragon1316
Summary: Deanne has grown into a capable apprentice at the College of Winterhold. But she realizes there is a much larger world waiting beyond the College's protective walls. Gathering her courage and close friends, she embarks on her next journey, seeking new experiences and greater understanding; and the one who set her heart alight.
1. Chapter 1

**I did it! I updated two long stories in quick succession. YAY!**

 **Those of you just finding this story right now, I'd highly suggest you read Book 1 of the series before setting out into this one.**

 **And those of you already familiar with Mind's Eye will, granted, recognize much of this chapter. But it's just...better molded for continuing the story. Which is the ultimate objective, after all.**

 **So, let's proceed. On with the show!**

Deanne shivered and tucked her hands tighter under her mantle. She probably should have worn gloves. But then again, she hadn't expected to be standing out here this long when she'd first wandered out to the College's front gate. Still, she didn't want to go back in yet. Fang felt her shudder, and leaned heavily into her side. Deanne reached out to run a hand through his fur. Her lupine familiar might not be able to lend her any actual warmth, being spectral, but his companionship was welcome.

The College of Winterhold had existed in a virtual stand-still in the time she'd been back. With so many magisters and members of the student body away on the Saarthal expedition, classes had been put on hold. Those who remained were taking advantage of the time to work on their own projects. Even though the College was enormous, Deanne could feel how much quieter and emptier it now was.

She sighed, shivering again, but keeping her place near the gate. It wasn't as though she was expecting them to return while she stood here. But going back to Hall of Attainment or Countenance to sit in a space devoid of the discussions and debates, and the comings and goings she was used to… It was actually less lonely standing out here alone in the cold.

"Freezing won't bring them back any sooner."

Deanne almost jumped out of her boots at Faralda's voice, stumbling a few steps to almost topple over Fang, her face going hot with embarrassment.

"I wasn't—Or…I know. But that wasn't—I mean, I'm not…" She clapped her mouth shut to stop the floundering.

The Destruction Master didn't accuse. She walked into the gateway to stand at Deanne's side, allowing the younger woman to turn back to her vigil. A billow of warm air wound around them, filling the space and holding the Winterhold chill at bay. Deanne relaxed a bit knowing that the magister hadn't come out expressly to bring her inside.

They stood quietly together, Fang resuming his post at Deanne's right hip, Faralda's spell keeping them warm.

Once the atmosphere was comfortable, Faralda asked, "So why are you out here?" Her tone was measured carefully, effectively concealing the motives behind the question.

Deanne's chest constricted around a half-explanation while she worried at the fur of her mantle. She wasn't sure she could talk about this. Or if she should. It didn't even make full sense to her, so how was she supposed to explain it?

Fang shifted next to her and shoved his muzzle into her hand, insisting that, if she was going to fiddle nervously, she may as well do it by petting him.

After a long quiet moment, Faralda made a guess. "If you truly wish to return to Saarthal, I can tell Mirabelle that—"

"No!" Deanne blurted out, then reined in hurriedly. "No, that's not why I'm out here. Or at least…not exactly why…" She groaned, pressing her free hand to her face. Fang whined and leaned into her, almost toppling the ward over. She staggered back upright, then tried to put words to what she was feeling. "I could. Go, I mean. Out there. If I wanted."

Faralda agreed, "Of course you could."

"But I didn't _used_ to. I've never just been _able_ to."

The hand in Fang's scruff tightened and she tucked her hair back anxiously with the other, still struggling with this fundamental shift in her life.

"I'm used to…limits. Knowing that _this_ is my world. I know the things that are in it, I know how to get around inside it, and I know where it _ends_. I'm used to walls and knowing where they are, and that that's as far as I can go. And, if I stay inside them, I'm safe."

Faralda stepped closer when Deanne petered off, letting their shoulders touch. The contact was a comfort, and some of Deanne's anxiety eased.

The magister pointed out, "Everyone has such limits. Perhaps your limits include more physical considerations than others, but you are far from alone in this. Nor does that mean your limits aren't meant to be overcome, either. Your chamber failed to keep you contained for long. As did the Hall of Attainment. You imposed both limits on yourself, and eventually stepped beyond." She spoke with such pride about that.

"But I was always inside the College," Deanne argued. "I didn't overcome my limits, I just exchanged one for another. Even when I left the Hall for the first time, everything I've done here—the classes and the spell work—has still been inside solid stone walls." She quieted. "Safe."

But that word, that concept, didn't appeal to her like it used to.

She heard the sound of the winds blowing full force beyond the gate, whipping around outside the College, held away by the high walls that enclosed her 'world'. Her senses etched the boundary of her 'world' in her mind and, consequently, where it gave way to the beyond.

Faralda spoke softly. "And yet here you stand, captivated, where the College opens to the outside." She gave Deanne a moment to mull that over. "Have you considered that this limit, too, is self-imposed?"

Deanne stiffened. "Well…maybe." Wasn't this what plagued her? "I mean, I have gone out there a few times. But it was always with someone else. And the last time…" She hesitated, then turned her head slightly to the magister. "You heard about what happened…didn't you?"

"As I was informed, a great deal happened." The statement was kept light but the inquiry left open. Faralda's way of asking without demanding she be answered.

The fingers in Fang's fur flexed and curled. "We were attacked on the way." More twisting. "I…killed someone." Faralda's arm came up around Deanne's shoulders, even though the younger woman was absolutely determined to remain above the swell of regret that welled up. "I had to—They attacked us first. But we got there alright. And then…" She hesitated briefly. "In the ruin, we found a passage and…went ahead of the expedition. There were draugr. We fought them. And we came out of it okay. I mean, all these dangerous things happened that I've always been afraid of happening. And I'm still alright. And so are the others—Or they were…"

She fumbled again, not even sure where that all left her. She'd gone through all these things she'd been afraid of, including and exceeding those that kept her inside the safety of her 'world'…And yet she was still here. Alive, well, back home.

Did that mean the world out there wasn't as dangerous as she'd thought?

No! There had been bandits and draugr trying to kill her. And they would have if they'd been able to.

And yet she had survived and returned to the College…

Deanne groaned and covered her face with her hands, struggling. Fang chuffed anxiously and twisted to bump his massive head into her stomach. Faralda shushed him and rubbed Deanne's shoulder soothingly, giving her time to settle.

With all this new information, it felt like Deanne's entire world had shifted, and she wasn't sure where she stood in it anymore.

Faralda gave her some firm direction for her thoughts. "Do you wish to be out there again, now that you know you are capable of it?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I mean, everyone I care about is out there now, so—" She halted, horrified. "No, I didn't mean it like that. You are—I mean I do care about you—"

The magister actually chuckled warmly. "I understand what you mean, my dear. I am your guardian. They are your peers. The roles are different." She mellowed. "And then there is the warrior."

Deanne held her breath, her face flushing anew remembering the kiss. That kiss… She'd spent a great deal of time thinking about that, too.

She waited for some insistence, either away or toward him. But none came.

Instead, Faralda told her, "As your guardian, I am not here to enforce the limits you've placed on your life, but to ensure that you have the means to reach beyond them if you desire."

"But I don't _know_ if I want to—"

"You needn't make the choice this moment," Faralda said, quick to keep her ward from leaping to unnecessary concerns. "Much like the Destruction school, either choice comes with its own consequences. But nor should you declare yourself incapable because you haven't considered this before. As I said, this may merely be the next limit for you to surmount." She made a show of shivering. "But perhaps you could think about this somewhere we will not catch frostbite?"

A laugh burst out of Deanne's chest and she reached up to swipe at her eyes before a tear could managed to escape on its own. "Yes, I think that would be a good idea."

XXX

Scarcely a day later, the Hall of Attainment door burst open. Deanne was in the middle of folding laundry when a flurry of cold air and irritable voices flooded into the Hall, and Deanne felt her heart lift on the crest of the influx. J'Zargo, Onmund, Brelyna.

Her heart swelled. They were back? They were back! But so soon? And where was everyone else? She hurried to set her robes aside and reached her doorframe as their burdens hit the floor.

"Deanne!" Brelyna rushed over and threw her arms around Deanne's neck.

Deanne wrapped her arms around Brelyna in return, so glad to have her friends back—and shrieked when the womer's ice-cold hands wormed their way under her collar. " _Divines_ , your hands are freezing! Let go!"

Brelyna clung on, whining plaintively, "No, no, no! You're warm. I'm suffering. Help me, please."

They squirmed for control of the freezing-cold hands, Deanne yelping every time Brelyna found fresh skin. "No, not— _Aah_! Stop it. You're not—Come over here. Use the stove!"

By the time they reached the kitchen, J'Zargo had already claimed the spot in front of the stove. But he did move to give Brelyna room without anyone asking. Brelyna sighed with relief as the heat washed over her, but muttered softly, "You're better."

"Don't you dare," Deanne snapped without heat, pulling her collar tight to defend against further assault as she backed out of reach.

From back in the main chamber, Onmund hollered, "Are either of you going to help with all this?"

J'Zargo yelled back, "When J'Zargo can feel his toes again, yes, he will help."

Onmund sighed, exasperated, going about what he was doing. But Deanne shared the non-Nord sentiment toward freezing temperatures. "Let me make some tea. There's stew on but it's not ready yet. And you need warming up."

"Yes, please," Brelyna declared, but stayed cleaved to the stove while Deanne fetched the kettle.

Onmund joined them about when the kettle started screaming and accepted a cup when it was offered, though he clearly didn't need it as much as the others.

They'd barely sat down before Deanne let out a shriek as she was wrapped up again.

"I'm so glad you're alright." Deanne was shoved out to arm's length, Brelyna emphatic, "You are, aren't you?" then Brelyna yanked her back in and barreled on, "Vilkas said you just collapsed. I saw you. You didn't move—I was so scared–Then you were gone! Archmage Aren said you were fine, but you know how he is, so we were worried. We didn't know if we should come back to check on you, or if you were returning eventually—"

J'Zargo scoffed, disturbing Brelyna's anxious monologue "Yes. Brelyna was so very worried. But where was this worry when J'Zargo was suffering?"

Deanne's neck cricked as Brelyna twisted them around to shoot across the table, "You're heartless, you know that?!"

Another scoff and a derisive, "J'Zargo was not worried because J'Zargo knew it would take more than a magic floating ball to knock Deanne down. Meanwhile, J'Zargo suffers, and where is his doting care?"

"He's fine," Brelyna insisted. "But are you? We really were worried. That artifact...No one's ever seen anything like it. The _effects_ it could have-!"

Deanne reached up and patted the arm wrapped around her front. "I'm fine. Really. I was fine by the time we reached the gate. Colette couldn't find any lingering effects. I don't even know for sure if...what happened was from interacting with the orb at all. More the release of after. Or too much excitement at once. Or…" Deanne gave up grasping for explanation. She didn't have anymore idea what had happened than anyone else. "I'm perfectly fine now. I promise."

Brelyna exhaled and she let her head fall forward onto Deanne's shoulder. "Thank goodness." Then she lifted her head and whispered in Deanne's ear, "And J'Zargo was worried, no matter what he says."

"He was not!"

Looking to divert their bickering before it started, Deanne asked, "What are you all doing back so soon, though? I thought the expedition had been extended." With that new section of the tomb uncovered, there was certainly a lot more to uncover and study in Saarthal.

Brelyna answered, finally letting go of Deanne but staying seated close all the same, "It was. But they sent the three of us back with some artifacts and to do research on the orb. It's got everyone stumped. Even the Archmage."

J'Zargo sputtered over his hot drink and practically threw it down the table. " _Research_!" he spat. "Any could have been sent, yet it is us three they choose? It is that they do not trust us any longer in Saarthal."

Deanne could hear Onmund roll his eyes. "You do remember we got ourselves caught in a trap, wandered off alone without supervision, and were almost killed fighting draugr, right? I wouldn't trust us not to do something stupid, either."

"Was it not we who discovered the hidden passage?" J'Zargo demanded. "Did we not prove capable against the corpses? Was it not we who discovered this great treasure they are so attached to? By Deanne's vision, we prevented a great disaster. J'Zargo believes that demands recognition!"

Onmund made an aggravated sound but fell quiet, while Brelyna respond, "You're just upset about your mustache. It'll grow back."

J'Zargo burst, "—J'Zargo's mustache was a work of great pride! He is right to be upset!" He slumped over the table, rubbing his hands over his face. "J'Zargo's mustache is gone. J'Zargo's eyebrows are gone. J'Zargo's _whiskers_ are gone. His whole face is wrong."

"One of the fireballs caught him in the face," Brelyna said in an aside to Deanne.

"J'Zargo keeps spilling things down his front! It is awful!" the Khajiit wailed plaintively. Deanne suppressed the urge to giggle at his outcry. But he still caught it.

"Oh yes. Laugh at the fur-less Khajiit. Keep laughing and J'Zargo will not give you your present."

Deanne's curiosity perked up. "Present?"

"What present?" Brelyna asked suspiciously.

"A souvenir from Saarthal! Like Onmund said, it was a grand adventure. And adventures need trophies!"

"Trophies?!" Onmund balked.

"Don't worry," J'Zargo assured him. "J'Zargo did not rob your ancestors' graves."

"What did you do?" Brelyna demanded.

The Khajiit was positively bouncing as he delved into his robes and bid excitedly, "Hands! Hands! Hands!"

Deanne offered hers hesitantly to have J'Zargo, after a bit more rustling, plunk a stone weight triumphantly into them.

Brelyna gasped. "You stole from the expedition? That's low. Even for you!"

"You do not know the things J'Zargo has done," J'Zargo pointed out, rakishly. "But no, this did not come from the expedition. The expedition never saw this. J'Zargo took it from the angry draugr in the last chamber before anyone came investigating. It doesn't count."

The other two gasped and laid into him immediately.

"I can't believe you!"

"You stole it!"

"Did not!"

"You took it off his body?!"

"If the magisters find out-"

"So we don't tell them."

Deanne sat and listened passively as the other three fired words back and forth. Any concern over them being truly angry at him was eased as there no more animosity in the back and forth than there was when they debated casting techniques or whether a spell was Altmeric or Dunmeric in origin. Deanne let her head fall forward, hood mostly hiding the smile their familiar chatter brought to her face.

"Can't turn my back on you for a second-"

"J'Zargo watched Onmund's back fine in the tomb-"

"-not even a proper amulet. It's all broken-"

"Then why is Brelyna making such a fuss?"

The...souvenir was a kind gesture, if ill-advised, given the trouble he could get into. But, really, all they needed to bring back was themselves. The College had been so empty over the last week, and Deanne hadn't realized until their absence just how much she'd come to value and depend on her friends' companionship.

"If Brelyna wanted one, she should have-"

"That is not remotely what I meant-"

The opening of the Hall door silenced all of them, the four clamming up and peeling their ears for who had entered.

There were a few soft footsteps, a measure of silence…

Then a stern, "Apprentices."

The whole table felt a spike of panic.

"The Master Wizard!"

"Pocket-pocket-pocket!" J'Zargo hissed frantically. But it was Brelyna who seized Deanne's hands and shoved them under the table with their burden. And not a moment too soon, as the magister's footsteps soon made their way to the dining room's door frame and stopped.

The whole table held their breath, until Brelyna said, too brightly, "Hello, Master Mirabelle." Much too brightly.

After a tense silence, the magister's response was terse.

"Is there a reason why the expedition equipment and artifacts are strewn around the entryway?" The anxiety shifted and the apprentices started fidgeting.

"Well...Master Mirabelle," Brelyna offered, "It was a long walk from Saarthal to here-"

"-And with all the snow-" J'Zargo put in.

"Right! The snow. We thought we'd warm up first. Before we put everything away…"

Another weighty stretch of quiet. The apprentices held their breath, and Deanne clutched the amulet fragment tightly out of sight.

"Hm." Deanne felt the flinch at her shoulder. That sound was as good as a reprimand from the Master Wizard.

"While I recognize that you three are not used to traveling in Winterhold weather, that is not an excuse for being careless with your equipment or the items the expedition has gathered. One of the stipulations of your participation was that you conduct yourselves like responsible mages. That holds true at the site and the College."

"Yes, Master," came the collective response, all of them properly chagrined.

"And Deanne, I expect you not to indulge in such bad habits, regardless of the actions of your peers."

"Yes, Master," she replied dutifully.

Apparently satisfied, Master Mirabelle continued with the matter she had come regarding, "Now then, Alteration workroom two has been converted into a catalogue area for the Saarthal expedition's findings. Once you are warm, I expect you to relocate everything you have brought back into that space. Each item should be clearly logged and labeled _before_ you retire for the night." Her tone brokered no argument. "Did Master Tolfdir send any additional documentation with you?"

"Yes," Brelyna volunteered, scrambling free of the bench and hustled around the table, brandishing a scroll, as eager to provide Master Mirabelle with what she requested as to keep the magister from approaching the table, Deanne, and her 'souvenir'.

Master Mirabelle took the parchment, unfurled it and spent a moment reading through its contents.

"Ah yes, this...orb, you found in Saarthal." Another moment of reading. "While I cannot claim any familiarity with this particular find, perhaps Urag can direct you to the appropriate resources. Once you have dealt with the artifacts, you may report to the Arcanaeum."

There were several weary exhalations from the apprentices - which were swiftly cut off. Deanne was glad she couldn't see the glare Mirabelle must have set on them.

"As I was saying," Mirabelle said, sternly, once they'd quieted, "You may report to the Arcanaeum tomorrow afternoon, once you've rested. Any relevant findings should be reported to me. And Master Tolfdir when he returns."

Her business done, Mirabelle bid them well and left the Hall of Attainment.

Only when the door closed shut behind her did the apprentices at last breath easy.

"That was too close," Brelyna sighed, collapsing back down on the bench.

J'Zargo, recovering faster than the others, just snorted. "It was nowhere near."

She regained her disapproval swiftly. "You made us accessories to theft. You don't get to talk."

"Brelyna is just sore that, while she was worried for Deanne, J'Zargo was worried and got her a 'get-well' present."

"Aha!" the Dunmeri exclaimed, diverted. "You were worried!"

This time J'Zargo sounded genuinely offended, "Of course he was worried. What kind of awful person does Brelyna think he is that he wouldn't worry. He just didn't wander around constantly talking about it."

"I didn't constantly talk about it!"

"Brelyna certainly did!"

Onmund, at least, had had enough. "Can you two bicker _while_ we put the artifacts away?"

J'Zargo made a mocking sound, probably coupled with a face. "Alright, no need to be bossy," and heaved himself off the bench, soon followed by the others, and they left the dining room to see to their task.

The apprentices' burdens were still sitting against the wall in the foyer – no wonder Master Mirabelle had been cross. They set about separating equipment from personal possessions from artifacts, putting off the next trip outside as long as possible.

"Where is the warrior?" J'Zargo asked, thumping what Deanne hoped were his own things none too gently to one side. "J'Zargo has had enough of hauling these things around. What is even the reason for this one? It is garbage." Deanne didn't ask which artifact he was directing that last bit to.

"As much as I hate to admit it," Onmund said sorely, "Help would be nice."

Deanne hesitated, shifting what she held so she could fiddle with her fur mantle, answering, 'He's not here…He went back to Whiterun. After Colette said I was alright."

"And you didn't go with him?" Brelyna practically demanded.

"What? No! Of course not!"

"But you wanted to," the womer pressed, mischievously. Deanne sputtered, which only served to egg Brelyna on. "Ha! I knew it. Don't even bother denying it. We all saw you together. Honestly, I'm surprised we found you here at all."

"Leave her alone, Brelyna" Onmund growled, shouldering past the womer to pick up what she'd abandoned in the 'storage' pile, probably hoping to get Brelyna back on task. It didn't work.

"What? You know I'm right."

J'Zargo grumbled, "Of course. We all saw them. But we also know, if she had gone, Brelyna would be whining about her leaving without goodbye, or something. There is no satisfying the Dunmer."

Brelyna groused, but didn't retaliate. Instead, she stepped closer to Deanne and asked, "So when is he coming back?" Why in Mundus, was she so fixated on this?

"I don't know. But it's fine. We knew he wouldn't be able to stay long. Can…can we focus, please?" Deanne did not want to spend time on this subject. Especially since…she had asked to go with Vilkas. It was a spur of the moment request, sure. And she'd taken it back, but…would Deanne have gone with him then and there if he'd agreed to take her?

She didn't have an answer. So there was no purpose in dwelling on it. On _anyone_ dwelling on it.

Brelyna huffed, "Fine. But we're going to have a serious conversation later about you letting him get away at all." Deanne groaned softly and gladly let J'Zargo foist several items into her arms before they all made their way out of the Hall, to the College proper and about Mirabelle's assigned task.

J'Zargo, whether intentionally or out of habit, kept Brelyna distracted with their usual stream of bickering. Onmund and Deanne only providing input to ease the more biting comments or redirect them to the job at hand. Deanne was rather surprised they had the energy to spare to keep it up for so long since, as soon as the four returned to the Hall of Attainment, both mages all but collapsed into bed. Maybe Brelyna would forget the whole topic by the morning.

…Hopefully.

There was just one more thing bothering her. "Onmund?" He paused in his doorway. "Are you…alright?" she ventured. "You've been awfully quiet since you got back." He'd said next to nothing until J'Zargo had pulled out the amulet, and not much after.

"Fine. I'm fine." He shifted where he stood. Which indicated otherwise.

Deanne reached into her pocket, pulling the fragmented amulet J'Zargo had given to her from where it had been tucked for the last hour or so. "Is it this? I can give it to one of the magisters, if you'd like. Or you can take it back to Saarthal –"

"No, no," Onmund cut her off. "It's…fine. Maybe a souvenir isn't such a bad thing. Considering everything we…" He cast off whatever thoughts were bothering him. "Keep it. Maybe it will bring you luck. And…I'm glad you're still here. That we're all still here. Even J'Zargo, if you'd believe it." He laughed, though it sounded only a bit forced.

Deanne felt something between them settle. A tension that had been stirred up when Vilkas had arrived. Although its fading wasn't entirely to do with his absence. Maybe, if she were braver or more curious, she'd try to understand it. But, as things stood, she was more than willing to let it lie and accept that their friendship remained.

They bid each other good night and retired to their rooms.

As Deanne lay in bed, she could sense nothing particularly different from any other night. Her room was unchanged. The Hall's magical focus point roared dully beyond her door, providing ambient noise that filled the space. Nothing heard or felt out of place.

With time to relax, she rolled onto her back and opened her 'mind's eye'. The magic all around her etched itself in her mind, the flow of energy moving through the walls and the very air around her, the world shaped to a sense that went beyond the physical. And, within the College's form, she saw the brilliant forms of her friends and their magic. Even at rest, each of their unique auras glowed in her mind.

Deanne sighed and settled in. It was so good to have them back.

XXX

All three slept in for hours the next morning. Deanne didn't even consider rousing them. Instead, she put a pot of porridge on to simmer and made certain all the additives were within easy reach.

Them sleeping longer did mean she had time to investigate the amulet J'Zargo had given her undisturbed. Behind closed doors, of course.

It wasn't a whole piece. A few ragged edges implied it had been broken off from something. But, oddly enough, that 'ragged' quality applied to the enchantment within the amulet as well. Deanne had never come across something like this before. Normally, when an item was broken, the enchantment dissipated entirely. An enchantment just couldn't hold once it lost a piece of itself.

Which meant this amulet must have been enchanted using some long forgotten method. Some way that soaked the enchantment into the object rather than lay over or through it.

Divines, she wished she could take this to Sergius and ask him. But that would raise questions of how she got it and might get J'Zargo in all that trouble they'd talked about yesterday.

So Deanne resigned herself to questions only and hung the fragment around her neck. By the Eight, even broken, the enchantment was still quite powerful. Deanne moaned in frustration, but dutifully tucked the piece under her robes and wrapped her fur-mantle around it. The things she did for friendship.

But they were all up, fed, rested and ready by the afternoon, at which point they found themselves entering the Arcanaeum to go about researching Saarthal's orb.

Or they might have, if Urag gro-Shub hadn't immediately come raging at them. And fast enough that Brelyna actually yelped and ducked back behind Onmund, dragging Deanne with her.

"Stop right there!" the Orsimer bellowed. "Not one more step, any of you."

"What! We haven't done anything," J'Zargo snapped back, stepping up to meet the librarian.

Deanne felt Urag's glare sweep over them. "Maybe you haven't. But the Arcanaeum is off limits until I've cataloged every tome in here. All of you. Out!"

Brelyna piped up around Onmund's shoulder, "The Master Wizard asked us to do research for the Saarthal expedition."

"I know what you're here for." Brelyna ducked back at his tone. Urag could be terrifying when he wanted to. His primary task might be maintaining the tomes of the Arcanaeum, but the Orsimer was a powerful mage in his own right. Only the most foolish of apprentices – or magisters – made the mistake of crossing him. "Word travels fast around here. And it doesn't change a thing. Every tome on these shelves is going to be accounted for before anyone takes another book off of them."

The sheer weight of his magicka, roiling around him, had the whole group backing out of the door. But it didn't keep Onmund from demanding, "Well what are we supposed to do in the meantime?" This was an assignment from the Master Wizard. She wouldn't be pleased to see them anywhere but in the Arcanaeum.

Urag growled just as they cleared the doorframe. "You want to do something productive? Track down Orthorn and get back what he stole." And with that he slammed the doors in their face.

The intensity of the ejection took a few minutes to set in. And, predictably, J'Zargo broke the silence. "Ooooo! Orthorn is in trouble."

Brelyna elbowed him. "This is serious."

"So, what do we do now?" Deanne asked. There was no way they were going back through those doors until Urag himself opened them. Her heart was still beating fast from the confrontation. "Should we tell Mirabelle?" That didn't sound like a pleasant option either, though. Even if it wasn't their fault they couldn't follow her instructions.

"We could," J'Zargo said, blithely. "Oooooor…" And He went bolting down the hallway without explaining, leaving the rest of them standing there stunned.

"What – J'Zargo!" Brelyna shrieked after him.

"Come!" he shouted back, already yards away and still going. "If we hurry we can catch him!"

The other three didn't grasp his intent until he was already gone.

"…He's not really going to…" Brelyna said, hesitantly.

"It's J'Zargo," Onmund pointed out. "What do you think?"

It only took a moment's thought. Then they all ran after him, pelting down stairways and through various corridors to catch him.

By the time they reached the Hall of the Elements, they'd lost track of J'Zargo entirely.

"Deanne, do you think you can – "

Deanne was already opening her Eye and searching for J'Zargo's magicka signature amidst the College's magic. "He's on the bridge."

"Stupid cat," Brelyna stated, but still pushed open the doors outside, pulling Deanne with her and Onmund followed behind. "J'Zargo's the last one I'd expect to chase a thief."

"You're assuming he's doing it because Orthorn stole from the College," Onmund pointed out.

"Why else would he – Where's he even going?!" Brelyna asked, skidding to a halt at the front gate. She released Deanne's arm and cupped her hands to shout into the icy winds, "J'Zargo!"

From somewhere down the long bridge to the mainland, just loud enough to make out, came a response. "Come! Come! Let's go! He can't have gotten far!"

"You don't even know which way!" she retorted. Then groaned, and said plainly, "And he's gone."

The three stood poised at the gate, the flurries spiraling around them, even with the gateway providing shelter.

"Should we go after him?" Onmund finally asked aloud.

Brelyna replied, "Did you see him in the tomb? I'm surprised he lasted long enough to make it to the College in the first place. He's gonna get himself killed. Maybe this time we outta let him." Onmund shifted and there was a pause. "What?! We just got back. I'm not going out there again. Look at the sky!"

There was an ominous roar in the distance. The sort that promised new drifts of snow and truly frigid temperatures while they were placed.

The three stood at the gate, silently debating their next move. And the thoughts of Deanne's last vigil returned to her mind. Maybe…maybe she could go out there. Maybe she could follow J'Zargo and…

"I'll go get him," Onmund said, sounding resigned.

The gate squealed softly as he opened it.

Maybe…she could go with him – with both of them…

"You tell him if he wants to freeze in a snowstorm, he can do it by himself!" Brelyna snapped quickly. Onmund made a noncommittal sound and his footsteps carried him down the path, away from them.

Maybe…

Deanne took a breath…and hesitated.

Long enough for his footsteps to disappear in the wind; leaving her and Brelyna standing in the entranceway. And the gate clanged shut in front of them.

 ***gasp!* There they go! And Deanne is left behind...OR IS SHE?! *dun-dun- _DAAAAAAH_!***

 ***raises glass*** **I need to give a thank you to Pixiedurango on Tumblr for the short she wrote for Mind's Eye which gave a serious heave-ho to the creative roadblock. Not canon for the story, but definitely an inspiration.**

 **And many, many, _many_ thanks to my beta, Breather, who after months and months of hearing NOTHING from me, picked up reviewing my stuff as soon as I broke the long radio silence. You are a treasure and I can't thank you enough for providing the input and guidance you do.**

 **And this last one's to my readers for sticking with me. And especially to those who leave the comments and reach out on PM, who encourage me to keep writing and remind me I'm not forgotten as soon as I leave a room. I really appreciate those of you who sent inquiries and encouragement during the long silence. It was much needed to get me back on this horse.**

 ***final toast* To regular updates!**


	2. Chapter 2

**At last an update! This one took some work, but I have settled on the intended character arcs for this book. And, after several passes got everyone doing and acting as I wanted. Anyway, here's the chapter. Have at it.**

Deanne and Brelyna stood at the College front gates for a rather long time. Deanne tracked the passage of time by the approach of Winterhold's latest bout of snow as it advanced upon the coast, the bite of the cold-crisp wind strengthening against her face as it picked up. As if she wasn't worried enough.

This waiting felt remarkably familiar. At least she wasn't alone this time. Brelyna's steadfast, wordless company implied far more concern on her part than her terse comments.

About the time when Deanne was considering attempting Faralda's ambient heating spell, Brelyna finally declared, "We should go inside. They'll find us when they get back, I'm sure." She may have tried to sound dismissive, but Deanne detected a tightness in her voice.

"Yes, you're right," Deanne agreed, as much to reassure Brelyna as herself. "Onmund will bring him back. Even J'Zargo will realize this isn't weather to be running out into."

Deanne allowed Brelyna to take her arm and guide her back inside. The womer seemed to need the anchor.

They went and settled into Brelyna's chamber to wait. Brelyna pointedly dragged her desk chair around to where she could watch the front door, before distracting herself with some spell research. Deanne needed no such positioning and took the other chair where it sat. But working magic right now would not be wise. So she picked up some long unused yarn from her chamber and set to knitting as her mind wandered.

The needles clicked earnestly in accompaniment with the Hall's focus point, but her thoughts were at the College gates and the sequence of events there at.

She'd hesitated. All that time thinking and debating and wondering about going out there. Into the world like any other person. And when the opportunity presented itself to her…she'd hesitated.

Why had she hesitated?

She wanted to, didn't she? To be out there. To step beyond her boundaries. To go out and experience the world like any other person. Well, maybe not like _any_ other person. But to be a part of the world…! Why had she hesitated?!

Deanne felt a stitch slip away in her haste. She swept her fingers over her work, finding a mess of missed and uneven knits and purls. Her breath stuttered but she took up the work again anyway. She needed the busy work.

Her needles clicked on, venting her indecision and frustration into the yarn, while Brelyna delivered hers to parchment by way of a quill. Together they filled the quiet with their nervous sounds.

She did want to go out there. To be a part of the larger world. She did want it. She would do it. Even knowing everything that could go wrong. If she didn't, she'd regret it for the rest of her life. Fighting her resolve loose from a lifetime of hesitation and fear, Deanne needed to drop the needles and grasp her fur tightly.

She did want it. She would do it. She could do it.

The fur twisted in her grip. No more hesitating. She needed to be brave. Courageous. Her fingers shifted and tightened again. She could do it.

The minutes became an hour. Then two hours. And neither of the men returned. The clicks and scratches grew more incessant. And the wait continued. The yet-tumultuous resolve Deanne had mustered gave way to concern as the minutes passed. Her ears focused ever on the Hall's entrance.

And still they waited.

"That's it!" Deanne started as Brelyna threw down her quill, her glass inkwell swiveling dangerously atop the wooden table. "I can't just sit here!"

Deanne felt conflicted at the declaration. "You mean to…go after them?"

Gods, she was hesitating again. Less, maybe—She was shifting forward in her seat and her mind was conjuring what she might grab from her chamber at need—but why was she hesitating again?

"Of course not," Brelyna shot at her. Deanne couldn't decide if she was pleased about that or not and she sat back into her seat, the surge of emotion just sort of roiled indeterminately inward. "But I don't want to just sit here doing nothing." Brelyna's finger beat testily on the table for several seconds.

Then she was on her feet.

"Come on," she insisted, grabbing Deanne's hand and hauling her up. Thoroughly lost, Deanne could only drop her knitting and follow.

Brelyna pulled her all the way up the stairs and around the second floor to a particular chamber door. She did a quick surveillance of the area and then opened it cautiously, and took an equally careful stock of the room before moving inside. Which set Deanne on edge.

"What are you doing?"

"Shh!" the womer hissed, leaving Deanne in the doorway as she went in. "Just stand watch."

"What?" 'Stand watch'? They weren't in the wilds. What was there to watch for?

"Just stay there and warn me if anyone's coming."

That was distinctly un-Brelyna. Where even… Deanne took note of the room they'd entered.

"– This is Orthorn's chamber, isn't it?!"

"Shhhh!" Brelyna hissed again, furiously, and Deanne stood in the sliver of the door, like she might block the fact that it was open, trying to look…like she wasn't involved with whatever was happening inside. Though she felt like she must look terribly conspicuous. And she didn't even actually _know_ what Brelyna was doing in there.

The Hall of Attainment had been empty of anyone but them since they'd entered. So Deanne kept her Eye trained on the front door, even more taut than before. Every passing second, every trace of sound mounting her anxiety. Her heart was beating in her throat, and she grasped for what she might do if anyone were to walk into the hall.

And then someone did walk into the hall.

Deanne gasped and rushed to the other side of the door, startling Brelyna.

"What is it?" She hadn't heard the door.

Deanne scrambled, suddenly unable to identify whose aura she was – "Nirya. It's Nirya!"

" _Shut the door!_ " she hissed. Deanne obeyed, clapping it shut, both of them flinching at the sound. " _Quietly_!"

They froze, listening in terror as Nirya's footsteps came out of the ambient noise, circling the second floor – _'Don't check the room. Don't check the room. Don't check the room.'_ – and went into her chamber two rooms down and shut her own door behind her.

Because of course that was where she would go.

They both breathed a sigh of relief.

Then Brelyna opened another drawer at the desk, "Tell me if she comes out," and went back to rifling through Orthorn's things.

"What are you doing?" Deanne demanded at a whisper. She felt like they'd just escaped expulsion from the College. What were they doing in here?!

Brelyna went on searching while she answered, "Looking for some clue where Orthorn went. Obviously." That was…Actually, that was rather smart.

"You think he would have left it here? Wouldn't someone find it?" Brelyna huffed.

"Well I wouldn't exactly call him a 'full soul-gem', if you know what I mean." She shut the drawer, harder than necessary, and huffed again. "He had to have left something…" Brelyna's foot tapped crossly while Deanne checked the Hall again. "Hmmm…If I were Orthorn, then where would I hide something secret." She paused. Then murmured incredulously, "He wouldn't…"

Before Deanne could ask, Brelyna hurried over and started mussing with the bed.

A few seconds later, "Really?!"

"What?" Brelyna grunted as she rose to her feet, paper crinkling in her hand.

"He hid them under his bed! He was never much of a mage, but how did such a moron even get admitted here?!"

"What do they say?" Deanne asked, after another quick stock of the Hall of Attainment.

"Hang on. Let me read." But Deanne's curiosity was trampled beneath the reality of their their current location.

"Actually, maybe you can look those over downstairs?"

"Oh. Oh, right!"

Brelyna came to Deanne's back and, after making certain it was all-clear, they slipped out and streaked for the stairs, not stopping until they were safely behind Brelyna's own door.

Deanne closed the it firmly behind them, just in case, and let her pounding heart slow back to a steady beat.

"I think J'Zargo's been rubbing off on you," she said, a little teasing.

"Excuse me?!" Brelyna shot back, fighting similarly to calm down. "Who's the one who got me to sneak off to the undercroft? Maybe _you're_ the one rubbing off on me." Deanne took a breath to deny it…and only ended up giggling as the realization set in. "And besides, it wasn't technically against College rules. Orthorn stole books and ran off. I don't think he's coming back. So it's not even his room, anymore. Technically."

"So what was all that sneaking about?" Deanne asked. This time it was Brelyna sputtering over a non-answer.

She finally blurted, "Just watch for the boys. And anyone else. I'm going to see what Orthorn was hiding."

Deanne tucked a smile into the corners of her mouth and did as she was told.

She didn't bother with her knitting this time. Just stroked the fur of her mantle gently and set her mind's Eye upon the bridge, their solitude now punctuated by the occasional shift of paper in Brelyna's hands and her soft mutter over what the pages held.

They didn't have much longer to wait. Deanne felt a weight lift from her shoulders the instant she felt J'Zargo and Onmund's auras come within range of her senses.

"They're back."

Brelyna's exhale was part relief and part aggravation. And Deanne immediately found herself being hauled up and out of the Hall, as the Dunmer was not willing to wait for them to come to the Hall. A fresh onslaught of snow met them, the snow storm having made landfall.

The front gate had just closed when the women reached them.

And whatever tirade Brelyna had prepared was replaced with a blaring, "What happened?!"

The layer of snow crunched under their feet as Onmund grunted, the movement drawing a pained yowl from J'Zargo's throat.

"There was a bear on the road. I told you we should have waited!"

"And let him get further away? Not a – Aggh!"

"Help me get him inside," Onmund said, firmly. Brelyna moved to assist.

Deanne had to twist out of the womer's grip so both of them could help properly. Brelyna put herself beneath J'Zargo's other arm while Deanne cast a spell to gauge their state – Divines, they'd taken a beating. Nothing life threatening, but there was no question why they'd returned. Even their auras were dimmed, both their magicka reserves depleted. How had this happened?

The four made their way to the Hall of Attainment, the worsened weather driving them inside, the group nearly bumping into Nirya on her way out. She humphed thoughtfully as she passed, and went on her way, and they on theirs. If they had hoped to keep this outing secret before, there was little chance of it now. The rest of the College was sure to know within the day with Nirya's penchant for gossip.

Putting that aside, Deanne led them to her chambers, finding her supply of poultices and potions by touch faster than the others could have by sight, and went to work mending their pains while Brelyna set to interrogation.

"What happened to 'I'll go get him'?" she demanded first, pacing furiously in the space around Deanne and her patients.

"He's faster than he looks, alright?" Onmund did no more than hiss as he removed his robes, allowing Deanne access to his wounds. She pressed a potion and cloths into his hands, bidding him clean the lacerations first while she turned to J'Zargo, who was more vocal about his pain. And indignation.

"What?! Who spoke on speaking with guards? And talked of weather and distance –" Deanne shut him up by skillfully tucking a wad of blisterwort and wheat into his mouth, while Onmund snapped, "That wasn't encouragement!"

"Chew," she instructed, very much secure in her healer's mindset, "It's for the pain." And she offered another sample in Onmund's direction. They could argue for the rest of the day if they wanted, but the treatments took precedent. J'Zargo still managed to grumble and gripe wordlessly around his mouthful.

"So you both went after Orthorn?" Brelyna accused, more irked with Onmund than J'Zargo. "Unequipped, storm brewing. Not to mention however much of a lead he had."

Onmund insisted, "I was trying to talk him out of it. He wouldn't listen!" then shoved the chew in his mouth and started dutifully grinding on it. Brelyna gestured furiously in the background.

"Unbelievable. Not a bit of sense between you!"

"Hey!" J'Zargo jerked, tearing his arm from Deanne's hands, though whether to justifying himself or come to Onmund's defense was unclear.

Regardless, she gave him a firm swat and the Khajiit yelped. She used the opportunity to drag him back where she could work on him. Just because the lacerations weren't bleeding anymore didn't mean she was done. Again, J'Zargo grumbled, but complied.

Though he still went on and said, "At least we went to do something useful. Track the thief and get back what he stole." Brelyna snorted.

"You didn't even know where he was headed." J'Zargo made a sound of dismissal, but Onmund caught more meaning from Brelyna's words.

"Wait…you know where he's going?" Something was done behind Deanne and it set J'Zargo off anew.

"Why didn't the womer tell us?!"

"Before or after you took off without waiting for anyone?!" Deanne had to seize his robes again.

"J'Zargo, I will let these fester if you don't sit still and let me finish." She was quite proud when J'Zargo caught the seriousness in her tone and sat rigidly still under her hands. Going back to it, she did say, "And we didn't know before you both were already away." Turning over her shoulder, she ventured, "There was something in those, right?"

A brief pause.

And then Brelyna rushed to say, "I mean, yes. Or I was just getting to it." She pulled out the papers as Deanne finished knitting what she could of J'Zargo's internal injuries. She handed him a potion for the lingering damage, told him he could spit out the chew and turned to check Onmund's progress.

"So what did you find?" Onmund asked, submitting himself to Deanne's ministrations.

"Letters," Brelyna answered, plopping down on Deanne's bed with the sheets of parchment, "Between Orthorn and some group of conjurers in Whiterun Hold. If there's a more specific location, he must have taken that one with him."

The name gave Deanne pause.

Whiterun. Where the Companions were based.

"Why would he want to go off to join up with a bunch of rogue mages in Whiterun? There aren't any legitimate guilds there. Especially if it's Conjuration," Onmund said.

"Better question," J'Zargo sniped, "Why would they want him?"

As more comments were tossed around, as well as questions of how Brelyna came by what she knew, Deanne's mind returned to her thoughts at the gate. And with the destination revealed, a path ahead was cleared and presented. But Brelyna didn't have answers for the questions being thrown around.

"Does it matter? You know where he's headed. It's more than you took off with before. And I hope you'll actually take some supplies this time instead of dashing out into the storm with just the robes on your backs like a couple of–"

"I want to go with you."

The whole room went quiet at Deanne's declaration. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks, but she remained firm. No more hesitation. No more regrets.

Onmund was dumbfounded.

"Go with us?"

"Yes!" J'Zargo leapt up and wrapped an arm tight around her shoulders. "This will be spectacular!" Brelyna couldn't have been more opposed.

"You can't go with them!" with Onmund seconding, "We're not going at all!"

"Well…why not?" Deanne asked. No, demanded. Why couldn't she be a part of this?

"Because it isn't safe!" Onmund insisted, near panicked over the prospect. "Whiterun's not friendly toward mages. Nowhere is! And besides, we didn't get a mile out of town before something happened. Skyrim is dangerous. Too dangerous."

"Exactly," Brelyna agreed.

"For one or two, perhaps." J'Zargo's speaking up for her was a relief. "But if we go together, it will be easy! Look at this!" And she felt him wave his arms before them. "A little patching and J'Zargo is ready to go. Had we this after the bear, we could have kept going. Deanne must come!"

"That's my point. Skyrim is too dangerous for her. For us!" Deanne turned in Onmund's direction, hoping she was looking him in the eye.

"It's too dangerous for anyone to travel alone. So doesn't it make sense to have a healer with you? I can do that."

"I'm…I'm not saying you can't. It's that – That's not the only – You're blind!"

She felt the words like a blow. And did not waver.

"But I'm not crippled. Just because I can't see doesn't mean I can't do things at all. It hasn't kept me from learning magic, or defending myself."

"But there's a big difference between studying magic in a safe environment and wandering Skyrim."

"Which is why we go together."

"Yes, yes!" J'Zargo cried, coming to her elbow. "Didn't Onmund and Brelyna make a great fuss of staying together? Well? And remember that Deanne can do more than heal. Did you see her in the tomb?" He flung his arm around her shoulders again and pulled it tight. "Maybe Deanne and J'Zargo will go, and Onmund can stay behind." Deanne did her best not to beam, even as the thought sent anxious sparks across her spine.

Onmund stumbled over his arguments. While he grasped for words, Deanne's hands curled into fists and stood taller, taking strength from J'Zargo.

And Onmund must have recognized the determination setting before him.

"I… _Fine_!"

Deanne released the breath she'd been holding. She hadn't wanted to go without him. J'Zargo might be all for it. But she knew there was strength in numbers, and readily recognized that her disability would need accounting for. Onmund wasn't going to leave it at that, though.

"But listen now. You're going to follow my lead, understand?" he declared, sounding much like another from not long ago, if without quite the same natural authority. Still, he tried. "We're going to stay together. We go, we find Orthorn, and we come straight back after. Got it?" J'Zargo sniggered, hearing the same thing Deanne did.

The Khajiit leaned in to whisper, "He thinks because he is a Nord in Skyrim, that means he is in charge."

What followed was a rapid exchange, the two males arguing their merits and which of them should be in charge of this expedition.

Deanne didn't speak up. She was willing to follow, and agreed that they should stay on task and return to the College once they'd found Orthorn and recovered what he'd taken. But her thoughts soon turned elsewhere.

Vilkas. She was going to see Vilkas again. And much, much sooner than she'd thought. How long ago had he gone on his way, back to Whiterun? Barely a week. And here she was, following after.

Well, no. Not following him. But going in the same direction as he had. And to the same place. At least to start. And of her own power, too. Would he be proud? Divines, she hoped he'd at least be pleased to see her. When they'd parted, he'd promised to take her to Whiterun someday. Though he'd doubtless thought that 'someday' was further off. They both had.

But was it bad that it was sooner? Or that she'd do it without him? Her stomach was already twisting up. Sweet Lady Mara, she hoped he would be happy to see her.

Deanne's musings were broken when Brelyna cried out.

"Stop, stop! Just shut up!" Onmund and J'Zargo likewise halted in their back-and-forth. Brelyna's breaths were deep and halted.

Then she said, "You can't really be thinking this, can you?" Deanne wondered, and rightly guessed the question was directed to her. "You can't really…I mean, after everything that happened at Saarthal, how could you…This is a terrible idea!"

Deanne heard in her voice the sort of deep seated fear that Deanne had suffered from for so much of her life. The fear of the unknown. Of failure. Of the consequence that came with both.

"I…I know."

She did. She really did. But…Faralda's words were clear in her mind.

"But every choice comes with consequence. And..." Deanne breathed in and stood just a bit taller. "I think I'm ready to test my limits."

J'Zargo let out a caterwaul and Deanne ' _eeped'_ as he seized and spun her around the room. Divines, she didn't think her declaration was worth this kind of reaction.

He set her down and was practically buzzing with excitement, "Let us be off! The world awaits!"

"Now wait a minute, we're not just taking off again. We need to plan it this time," Onmund insisted.

"Fine, fine. J'Zargo leaves Onmund to pack all the boring things, and J'Zargo will bring the things that will make this exciting!"

"This isn't about excitement!"

"J'Zargo," Deanne said, trying to help Onmund talk their friend around. "We're going to need take some things with us."

"We should probably ask if we can sign out staffs," Onmund offered. "Just in case."

"Yes! Destruction staffs! Firebolts!"

"No."

" _Thunderbolts_!"

" _No_!"

In the midst of it all, Deanne noticed Brelyna had fallen silent again.

"Brelyna?" No answer. "You're coming with us, right?"

Every adventure they'd been on, since the first time in the Undercroft, they'd done it together. The Waterwalking spell on the beach, Saarthal, not to mention their classes and much of their free time. It seemed almost incomprehensible that they wouldn't do this together as well. But, by the way Brelyna was hesitating…

Seconds ticked by, unbroken. Until…

"I'm sorry. You may be ready but…I'm not."

Deanne felt her heart sort of…squeeze at that.

J'Zargo scoffed beside them, "Stay, then. We have no need of you – "

"J'Zargo, enough!" Deanne snapped. His bravado might be part of his personality, but he needed to learn when to stop.

Deanne understood what Brelyna was going through. This fear was more familiar to her than almost any other emotion. And there was no shame in it. None at all.

Even if it was profoundly saddening to break from their little unit.

"It's alright," Deanne said softly. "You shouldn't force yourself if you're not ready." It wouldn't keep Deanne from going, or wishing Brelyna would come. But the last thing she wanted was to leave her friend feeling guilty for not being as willing to take such risks herself. Deanne was familiar with that, too. And she would not do that to her.

So she smiled reassuringly, lifting her head to be sure Brelyna would see it.

"We'll be back before you know it."

Brelyna said nothing. And Deanne wished, not for the first time, there was a spell to read thoughts.

Behind her, Onmund redirected the conversation.

"If we're going to check out supplies, we'll need to tell the Master Wizard what we're doing."

"Bet J'Zargo finds her first!" And J'Zargo bolted out the door, leaving Onmund sputtering.

"J'Zargo – _ugh_! Come on."

His hand closed around her elbow, but Deanne held her place a moment longer. Just in case Brelyna had something to say. Or maybe, changed her mind…

But, no.

So Deanne let Onmund lead her after their more eager companion, and left Brelyna where she stood.

XXX

When they'd gone seeking Master Mirabelle's approval for the venture, Deanne hadn't expected it to turn into a committee.

Well, there had been some magisterial meeting going on when they'd arrived. Then J'Zargo – being J'Zargo – barged in and announced their intentions loudly and without thinking. Maybe it wasn't so surprising the magisters had altered focus entirely onto the apprentices.

So here she sat, Onmund on one side, J'Zargo on the other, with five magisters considering their request.

"Are you three sure of this?" Master Mirabelle withheld any sign of her predisposition. "While we appreciate your willingness to recover stolen resources, the task itself is more dangerous than I think you realize. There is a civil war brewing in Skyrim. This is not the best time for anyone to be wandering the roads. And then there's the standard dangers of travel and the suspicion you should expect as mages of the College."

"We are, Master Wizard." Onmund kept his voice steady, but Deanne could feel the tension in his shoulders. "I grew up in the Hold. J'Zargo's traveled all the way from Elswyer to get here. Between us, we know what to expect. And Deanne's got more experience in Restoration than either of us, in case anything does happen." He sounded proud of the argument. And Deanne belatedly tried to remember if he'd ever mentioned being from Whiterun.

Mirabelle hummed. At least she appreciated they'd thought this through.

"But none of you are well-traveled _within_ Skyrim. You are not so long studied as to warrant departure from the College, even under standard circumstances. And as to Deanne's complications…"

If she was expecting the first response from her table to be in her favor, Faralda was quick to do otherwise.

"These apprentices have proven themselves quite capable young mages in the past months. Certainly capable enough to travel to Whiterun and return." Mirabelle's reply was terse.

"I would have expected you to be against this."

Deanne caught the emphasis in the statement. So Faralda's pointed care for Deanne had been noted. She shouldn't have been surprised. The Destruction Master has taken clear effort to teach and encourage her. It was hardly a secret. And that guidance had been a significant factor in her growth, not just as a mage, but as a person. Of course that would be noticed.

But at the same time, this was a sharp reminder that Deanne wasn't invisible at the College. That she, what she did, and who she spent time with was observed and marked. By anyone. And that reminder raised a question, one that came with an uncomfortable tension in her stomach: what kind of impression did she make?

Rather than follow that thought, though, Deanne cleared her throat, vividly aware of the attention shifting entirely onto her.

"Master Wizard, I can't speak to how I seem to you now. But I since I've been here, I've grown so much. And so much more than I ever thought myself capable of. I've learned my lessons well, and I've earned good marks in my regular classes. I can move more independently than I've been able to in...in my entire life. And I believe I can succeed outside the College as well...If I'm accompanied..." She struggled to quash all the 'what if' scenarios and look confident - _feel_ confident. Was it working? She couldn't tell until they spoke.

Thankfully, Onmund had her back.

"It'll be a great learning experience. For all of us."

Master Sergius, another of Deanne's mentors, was likewise concerned. But it had him opposed.

"A satchel of supplies aren't worth the lives of three apprentices, no matter what Orthorn took. And students should be testing at an Expert level in at least one school before we let them take off. They're not ready."

Master Urag growled from where he stood against the wall, "College supplies might be replaceable, but those books are priceless. At least someone's looking to sort this out. Not the usual 'non-response' we get around here."

Master Colette likewise pipped up, snipping, "And I'll have you know that, thanks to _my_ tutoring, Deanne is most certainly an Expert in Restoration, I assure you." On Sergius's other side, Master Phinias had a slightly different addition to make.

"As I recall, there was a time when a period abroad was a necessary part of a young mage's curriculum."

"Journeyman," Urag gro-Shug supplied gruffly. "Revised out for something we could do in-house once things got touchy out there." He didn't sound the least bit impressed with the decision.

"With good reason," Master Mirabelle said firmly. "The dangers facing a wandering mage are greater than they were a century ago. Or even a decade go."

"But we're ready!" J'Zargo shouted, coming out of his seat. Deanne reached out, trying to tug him back down – now wasn't the time for outbursts – but he batted away her attempts. "We proved this at Saarthal, did we not? Bandits! Draugr! We can pursue and catch one lousy mage. What cause have you to doubt us?!"

He ran out of steam and Deanne was able to hook her fingers in his robes and drag him back down to sit. Master Mirabelle's response was much more measured and stern.

"Your confidence is not a direct reflection of your capabilities, J'Zargo. And there have been enough tragedies in recent years, we are not eager to lose more young mages unnecessarily."

That reasoning quieted the apprentices, and most of the Magisters. Deanne felt both of her friends sort of deflate a bit. At this point she was expecting a rejection as well.

It wasn't that she didn't understand the risks. Or where the magisters were coming from. Maybe they weren't ready. Maybe they should spend another year practicing their magic. But…

No, J'Zargo was right! They'd proven capable of working together, of fighting together, without oversight. This was a reasonable next step!

"If that is the concern, a chaperone would fix that easily," Faralda offered. Mirabelle didn't even hesitate.

"No. For one, the discovery in Saarthal requires prompt looking into. And with the war beginning, anti-mage groups are likely to feel emboldened to act on their prejudices. We need all our Masters on hand for the time being. Particularly our Destruction Master." Faralda humphed softly, but didn't dispute the point.

Master Phinias ventured to the apprentices, "There are normally four in your little group. Where is Brelyna in all this?"

J'Zargo groused and took a breath beside her, but Deanne elbowed him quickly before he could say something unkind. Onmund answered in his place.

"She'd rather stay at the College. But the three of us can handle a trip to Whiterun and back. And if the war is really just starting up, now's the best time to do any travel, right? So we're back before it gets going?"

Deanne heard the magisters shifting at their consideration.

"I don't see why this has turned into such an event," Master Phinias complained. "The College isn't a prison. If the students want to go off, let them– "

"Not if they want to be in good standing when they come back," Enchanter Sergius pointed out.

"And Deanne is a Ward of the College. She is our responsibility, and she does need permission to leave on this kind of trip."

Deanne heard Phinias's meager, "Still," and Urag give a disapproving grunt, but nothing more.

Mirabelle proceeded to say, "With the Arch Mage still in Saarthal, the final decision falls to me. Unless anyone else has more to say." She allowed the opening to linger until she was certain it would go unanswered. Then the Master Wizard took a breath, seeming to draw in all that had been said for consideration. The room marked that time as it passed, waiting.

Deanne felt the desire to fill the silence, somehow. She'd never wanted something this badly before. The venture had become so real so quickly. New and terrifying and exciting and… _possible_. And now within reach. She believed she could do this. And she wanted to so badly. _'Please. We can. We want to. We deserve to. Please let us. Please let me be_ courageous _myself_.'

Then Onmund and J'Zargo sat up, signaling to Deanne that Mirabelle had come to a decision.

"Very well. You may go."

J'Zargo launched out of his seat with a victorious shout, heedless of the audience, and Deanne couldn't have said it better herself.

XXX

" _You will be appropriately supplied and equipped. I believe a change in wardrobe is in order, as well. You will, after all, be representing the College while abroad. So it is appropriate you look the part."_

Master Sergius wasn't particularly pleased with the decision. But he dutifully divvied up travel packs, camping supplies, and the various items they would need between them. J'Zargo was actually trying to haggle more soul gems out of him, while Onmund was trying to get J'Zargo to take more of their supplies in his own pack. Deanne stood aside, letting them sort things out and just sort of expecting to receive her fair share of the weight when they were done.

That's when Faralda approached with Deanne's own staff allocation. There was pride in how Faralda pressed the smooth wood into Deanne's palm.

"I convinced Mirabelle this was called for. One of my more powerful pieces. Electricity. And it packs quite the punch. Just in case."

Deanne ran her fingers along the frame, feeling the texture and shape of the stave, and the spellwork woven within. 'Quite the punch' was an understatement. It was like a captured thunderstorm inside the grain.

"So?" Faralda asked softly. "How do you feel?"

The Ward breathed out in a rush. "Nervous. A little scared. But excited."

Faralda chuckled, "Good. If you weren't feeling all three, I'd be worried." She grasped Deanne's shoulder reassuringly. "Hold on to those feelings once you're out there. They will serve to keep you aware. And safer than you'd be without them."

Deanne nodded, breathing steadily, feeling like Faralda's grip was all that was keeping her from vibrating right out of her new robes.

The Destruction Master squeezes her Ward's shoulder once more and told her, "I'm working on getting one more thing for your trip."

"Oh, you don't need to," Deanne insisted, realizing exactly how much valuable equipment was already being meted out for this.

"But I will regardless. And you'll thank me for doing so. Trust me." And she leaned forward to kiss Deanne's forehead, before turning to put her foot down about whatever hitch was holding up the final allocations.

XXX

" _In addition to the standard field equipment, you will receive funds enough to see you housed and fed for a period of approximately three weeks. Utilize these funds wisely as, once you are beyond the College walls, you will be responsible for yourselves."_

"So how are we getting there?" Onmund asked with what sounded like half an answer in mind already.

As a part of their equipment set, Urag had issued them a semi-detailed map of Skyrim. And, being Urag, it was under the condition that, once their task was done, all three of them return it to him in exactly the condition they'd received it.

Specifying ' _all three of you'_ when one would suffice was probably as close as they'd get to him wishing them a safe return. Right now they were gathered to chart the route they would take to reach Whiterun.

J'Zargo snorted, "What kind of a question is that? There is only one road!"

Onmund shot back, "I want to make sure we're all on the same page. It cuts east, halfway to Windhelm before it gets over the mountains. Then we double back. That means two days in cold weather, maybe three. So we should be ready for that." J'Zargo made a distasteful sound.

" _Windhelm_. The further from there the better. J'Zargo passed through on his way here. They were not friendly."

"Exactly. And not really fond of mages, either."

Deanne made a mental note about the city. If Onmund was opposed, it must be very bad. Of course, she didn't have a good frame of reference for 'normal' Skyrim attitude toward mages, either. Grasping her mantle tightly, she hoped she could endure it. She'd never had a high threshold for harsh treatment.

"There's supposed to be a pass to the west of here," Brelyna offered. Though she wasn't going with them, she'd found an excuse to linger near them while they planned. "It's up past Saarthal somewhere. It would probably cut your trip in half." With the very concept of three days in the snow sending shivers down Deanne's spine, that sounded rather appealing.

"And how do you propose we find it?" Onmund replied sardonically. "Maybe it would be half the trip. But if the pass isn't obvious, or if the snow hasn't cleared, then we'll be stuck and just have to come back. It's a waste of time." Brelyna bristled at the rebuke.

"Well, _sorry._ I was trying to be helpful. You're a Nord. And J'Zargo's probably grown some kind of undercoat by now. But I'd rather Deanne not freeze to death out there, alright?" Onmund take a breath to shoot back, but halted and exhale instead.

"Which is why I want to make sure this goes right. You're not the only one who's thinking about this."

While it was good the splitting of their group wasn't going to be on bad terms, all Deanne got from the exchange was that they were all trying to account for her burden. For how much slower, or longer, or harder it would be to get her from here to there. That, even though they'd agreed to take her, she was going to be the weakest link. It was…uncomfortable.

"What about Dawnstar?" she asked, trying to alleviate the lurking sense of inadequacy. "It's the way Vilkas brought me."

Onmund answered, "Dawnstar…It's about the same distance around the mountains."

"And it is not Windhelm," J'Zargo declared eagerly, moving to the desk as well.

"But there's no road between them," Onmund pointed out.

J'Zargo scoffed, "Who needs a road? We just go straight across here."

"Or follow the coast," Brelyna said. Another J'Zargo scoff.

"And get salt in J'Zargo's fur?" He punctuated it with a noise of disgust. Which did not impress Brelyna.

"Well it's either salt or frost trolls," she said imperiously. When no one responded, she explained, "That 'straight across' area is one of their primary habitats."

There was a brief pause.

Then they all echoed, " _Coast_."

XXX

" _You will present yourselves to Farengar, the Whiterun Hold Court Wizard, when you arrive. This letter will explain the circumstances. He will direct you to whatever lodging he deems appropriate and will serve as your supervisor while you're there. However, as that is his place of employment, you'll be largely responsible for yourselves._

 _"During you're time in Whiterun, you will attempt to locate Orthorn and recover the items he took from the College. However, when your funds are exhausted, and if you have not yet done so, you will return to the College, regardless of the progress of your search."_

Deanne went through her room carefully, picking out what personal effects she would add to the pack of supplies she'd been given, as Onmund and J'Zargo were doing in their own rooms right now. Her pack was probably smaller than strictly necessary, given the three were sharing the burden of their general supplies. But chances were she would mind less once she'd been carrying it for a whole day.

She gathered and set out undergarments, robes, under-robes, over-robes, plenty of socks, and spare boots. She didn't know what she would need out there, but the primary memory from her single trip through the province was that it was _cold_.

When Onmund's footsteps come to the door, she turns to receive him.

"Hey, do you want – Are you taking all that?"

Her initial certainty was undercut by the incredulity in his tone.

"Yes?" Did he just not notice how swiftly most of them rushed from building to building up here?

"Whiterun is a lot warmer than Winterhold. Trust me, you won't need all that." Deanne frowned, conflicted.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. It won't get cold until Hearthfire. This time of year, most people walk around in light shirts. Or no shirt if you're out tilling…"

He trailed off, caught in his thoughts. Probably thoughts of home.

Deanne gave him a minute, and then ventured, "Are you alright with this? Going back to Whiterun, I mean." He'd said on multiple occasions that his family hadn't approve of him leaving to study magic. She couldn't imagine a reunion being entirely happy under those circumstances.

"Of course," he blurted out. "Mostly. It's not that I expect…I mean –" He stumbled over responses, to confirm or deny or dismiss, rather confirming this concern was more serious than he'd let on. Deanne remained still, waiting out his conflict.

Said explanation was interrupted by an audible crash from J'Zargo's chamber. And Onmund seized the diversion.

"I'll go check on him. Then, when I come back, I'll help you to through all that." A triumphant yowl reached their ears, and she heard Onmund grimace. "I'll be right back," and he rushed away.

He wouldn't go into the matter of his returning home. Not without her pushing him, and she wasn't the sort to do that. Maybe he'd speak on it when they got closer to Whiterun. Maybe it would even turn out to be less of an issue than he thought.

On another note, it made her wonder what her own 'homecoming' might look like. In Skingrad. She didn't expect it to ever happen. It was quite far away; and, without any family, there wasn't any real reason to return. What would they make of her now? She'd probably be able to teach the priestesses a few Restoration tricks. Walk the streets without a guide. Maybe even wander beyond the city walls. Wasn't that a strange concept.

Well, maybe not so strange anymore, given her last outing. From near-cloistered maid to a tomb-delving mage. Now that was a strange development.

What would Father think of her now? He'd meant for her to have a lifetime of shelter here. Had he expected her to take up magic eventually? Would he be against her leaving the College once she'd gotten here? It was hard to imagine what he would want now. She'd never been anything near self-sufficient in Cyrodiil.

And what about her brother, Marc? What would he think? That was even harder to consider. And now that she was leaving…would she find out what happened to him? Why he'd never reached the College? Divines…She didn't know if she wanted to; if it would be worse to learn he'd suffered some gruesome fate, or go on wondering.

Deanne didn't want to think on that, and hurried to focus back on her packing, grasping for a trace of her previous excitement before the old grief could regain its grip. She didn't want to start this trip with such grim thoughts on her mind. It had been so long. How likely was it she would find anything, one way or the other?

Setting aside the clothes for a while, she focused on gathering other things she thought she'd need: bathing supplies, potions, her sewing kit, a travel alchemy set, J'Zargo's souvenir – which she immediately put around her neck and tucked beneath her robes. Across the hall, she could hear the back and forth: J'Zargo's "This one needs that!" and Onmund's "No, you don't!" and was glad to smile.

One last thing. From the back of the drawer where it had lived, completely untouched, since her arrival, Deanne reached in and retrieved her small pouch of treasure.

Sitting back on her heels, she grasped the weighted bottom of the bag, feeling hard shapes of gold and jewels inside. Maybe it was imprudent to take it out into the world. They may never use it. Or it might be stolen. But it had served next to no purpose where it had been. So…better to take it and not need it, right?

As she was tucking it into her bag, Deanne heard the Hall door open. A brief look with her Eye revealed Faralda had entered.

Deanne sat up, ready to receive her – only for the Master to walk to the Hall's other side and knock on another door. Brelyna's door. Deanne observed her aura as Faralda was admitted…and stayed.

She sat there, wondering.

Then J'Zargo came out of his room, shouting that he was ready and Onmund yelling that he wasn't and, for Stendarr's mercy, put some trousers in!

Deanne giggled and went to tuck her treasure into the recesses of her pack, before Onmund came back and helped her cull her clothes into a bulk she could carry a good distance.

And all the while, excitement rose back into place, bubbling in her veins. Not much longer now.

XXX

"As a final reminder: when you step outside this College, you will serve as its representatives. Of its values and priorities. And we expect you to conduct yourselves as such. You must, at all times, be aware of your actions and how they will reflect on yourselves and the College."

Mirabelle met them in the Hall of the Elements in the early hours for their final send off. J'Zargo would not stop preening over their new robes; Adept level with a suitably stronger enchantment. Onmund was fidgeting, working out how to juggle his new staff and pack, while guiding her at once. And Deanne was throttling hers, trying not to throw up.

They were ready. Packed, planned, prepared. She just wished they were a mile into their journey already, because these last few minutes were brutal. Last minutes, last chance to call it off, to stay behind. The weather was finally clear enough. Could they leave yet? Where was Faralda? Deanne thought she'd be here to see them off.

As if in answer, the great doors groaned open and closed again. Deanne opened her Eye in brief, just long enough to identify Faralda approaching, with Brelyna following. The former's aura was her ever-contained maelstrom of power; the latter's, fraying at the edges.

Faralda came forward, drawing Deanne in for one last embrace. "You be careful."

"I will," Deanne promised. "And thank you. For encouraging me. And speaking up for us. For everything –" Faralda laughed loudly, cutting off Deanne's stream of gratitude before it could get going.

"You're not leaving forever." Deanne clapped her mouth shut. But the silliness of her immediate inclination stretched it into a broad smile.

Of course. They weren't relocating across the province. A month or so and they'd be back, as though they'd never left. No need to make such a grand deal about it. Even though everyone sort of was. Divines, they were really doing this!

Faralda kissed her forehead tenderly and stepped aside. At which point Brelyna came over to take Deanne's free hand…and stood next to her. Onmund exhaled something like a relieved chuckle. But Deanne just stood there, confused, until Mirabelle called the group to order.

"If you're ready, then, we will wish you a safe journey. Should there be any significant occurrences, do not hesitate to send word."

"Yes, Master Wizard," Onmund answered.

"Let's go, then!" J'Zargo declared, making for the door like a racer off the mark.

Onmund followed, with one hand under Deanne's elbow. And Brelyna with them on her other side, a staff of her own clicking with each step, and the pack shifting on her shoulders.

"You're coming with us?" Deanne asked, hardly daring to assume. Not until Brelyna herself –

Brelyna squeezed her hand tight, "Let's just go. Before I lose my nerve."

Deanne squeezed back as Onmund let go and stepped ahead when they came to the bridge to the mainland. Here, it was Deanne imbuing fortitude and drawing Brelyna on; a strange reversal of their norm.

The Magisters remained at the College front gates as the Apprentices – Journeymen, now – set off together into the Skyrim.

 **And they are out of the College! Let the grand adventure begin!**

 **I know the plee is old and tired, but I could really use the validation. Leave a comment before you go, and I'll see you next update.**


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